Decay
by ShadowSanctum
Summary: Petals wilting, blackening at the edges, crumbling to dust...the inexorable process of decay. The night air is cool, almost sterile in its freshness but underneath it lies the moist, squalid seduction of rot.
1. Chapter 1

She lays on a bed of bloody roses; after all, what can be more beautiful than flowers? The girl says something different. Petals wilting, blackening at the edges, crumbling to dust...the inexorable process of decay. The night air is cool, almost sterile in its freshness but underneath it lies the moist, squalid seduction of rot.

The girl, all moonlight-pale skin and midnight hair, inhales deeply, reveling in the sickly sweet scent that hangs like a shroud in the air, overwhelming her senses with each intake of breath.

A strange half-smile comes over her face, though her eyes remain closed, lashes casting spiky shadows down her colourless cheeks. She chuckles, but the tinkling sound contains no mirth. It is humourless, reverberating with a barely contained malice that echoes through the forest. She clutches a stray rose, slowly bringing it up to her nose. When she opens her fist, the blossom falling from her grip, her hand is stained red.

She is up and moving by five the next morning, her ascent marked by every branch she leaps from. The sky is the color of eggshells, bright with pre-dawn light. The luminosity does not surprise her; darkest before the dawn is an old adage, old and erroneous. Her full lips quirk upward slightly. _Foolish primates_,she thinks and suddenly her speed increases and she's moving faster than the eye can see. She's silent, not even the characteristic _swoosh _of rustling clothing as a testament to movement.

Her master will be waiting for her, but he is a patient man _or serpent or demon._ Biding his time is what made him what he is today, a person to be feared and respected. Her thoughts flit briefly to her masters face, ashen and gaunt, all hollowed cheeks and gleaming yellow eyes, little more than a skull, really, and she laughs aloud at the sudden notion of calling him Gisugisu-sama.

Violet hair whipping around in ghostly tendrils behind her, the girl leaps down from her perch. She is but a few yards away from the compound now, and can afford to walk rather than jump from tree to tree.

A bird twitters behind her and more out of habit than annoyance, she throws a kunai at it, striking the bird in mid-flight, all whilst staring straight ahead. _Such gifted hands_, her master had said upon finding her as a small child. _So many of them and so far they extend...Tell me, hime, how far do you wish to reach? _She raises a hand to touch one of the bony protrusions extending from her skull, a demented smile on her face. _Gifted hands indeed. _


	2. Chapter 2

Strolling languidly across the narrow dirt pathway that lead to her master's abode, the anomalous grin that split her face but a moment ago vanishes; in its place is a deadened, solemn expression, maroon eyes cold and mouth set in a firm line. He is awaiting her return, and so she quickens her pace, nearly sprinting to the door in her haste. Unwilling to dawdle any further, she utilizes her vectors to open the door for her before flying inside, her hands leaving small craters in the earth as she rushes in.

A few minutes later, she is bowing before her master upon one knee, head down, deep pink locks obscuring her face. He stares briefly at her, raking his frozen yellow gaze against her form. Slowly, with the bearing possessed only by one whose aspirations concern but power and dominion, he approaches her. Gently, he places a bony, long-fingered hand atop her head, delicately stroking her cherry-hued mane. A tiny smirk played across his thing lips as he took in the sight of his lovely little prodigy. The power to rend human flesh with merely a thought, to rip a man limb from limb with a single glance, the power even to part the clouds...All of it lay at her fingertips. Just as she laid at his. His smile grew wider, eyes alight with mad glee as he continued to comb his fingers through the silky strands of his perfect, subservient student. She was Gaia, she was Lilith, she was Eve...No, she was Lucy and she was _his_. With that, he began to laugh, a hollow sound that seemed born out of malevolence and insanity rather than humor.

As per usual, Lucy took his handling of her in stride; it was a usual occurrence, after all. When she was younger, it had been disconcerting, but over the years, she had grown accustomed to it, simply noting it as yet another one of his odd habits. The ministrations ceased as suddenly as they had begun. "So, my dear Lucy, all went well, I presume?" In response, she slipped her rucksack off of her back, allowing it to hit the ground with an oddly fleshy _thump_. Slowly, almost teasingly, she withdrew the drawstring, the cloth falling away to reveal the human head concealed within it. Face empty of expression, she lifted it up by the hair, turning its visage to her own. Mouth still opened in an anguished scream, it stared blindly ahead at her as Lucy pulled it so near to her that she could have kissed the mangled flesh. Then, holding the decapitated head for her master to see, she carelessly allowed it to fall from her grasp in a pile of gore. The head had barely hit the ground before she released several vectors, crushing it into an unrecognizable heap of bloody pulp. "Mission completed, Orochimaru-sama."


	3. Chapter 3

Humming a familiar melody to herself, Lucy walked to the outside of the compound. She'd been feeling something unsettling for the past several minutes, something that clawed at the back of her mind, an incessant buzzing that reverberated in her head like a horde of wasps whose nest has been overturned.

Ever cautious, she refused to ignore her trepidation, minor though it might be. She'd long since acquiesced to the fact that it was kill or be killed; anyone who believed otherwise was a fool, deserving whatever grisly fate awaited them for their naive idealism.

And so, Lucy hovered in midair, taking a vigilant reconnaissance of the immediate area. Nothing, not even the whisper of leaves rustling in the breeze. It was as though the entire forest had come to an absolute standstill. That, she decided, was far more ominous than anything.

Lucy's instincts were proven correct as a slew of kunai hurtled toward her just as she'd turned around to re-enter the building. They of course, proved to be ineffective as she halted them in midair before dropping them into the dirt. Hiding in the trees like the primitive apes they are, she thought to herself. In that case, it's time to rid them of their hiding place. With that, her vectors swarmed out, tangling up against each other in their frenzied descent towards their target.

Massive hands, maneuvered deftly by arms that looked as though they could encircle the planet tore viciously at the forest, razing the earth, uprooting trees, and smashing through boulders in their mistresses' search for the as-of-yet unseen enemy. In less than a minute, the entirety of the woods had been demolished, reduced to little more than a desolate wasteland of toppled oaks and uprooted dirt. To Lucy's satisfaction, there lay several corpses in the center of the ruin.

Out of morbid curiosity rather than genuine interest about who she'd killed, Lucy floated over towards the bodies before landing near them. Roughly turning the nearest one over with her bloodstained vectors, she was unsurprised to catch sight of a Konoha headband. But of course. A wry smile flitted briefly across her lips. Ever since they'd made the discovery that Orochimaru had not only emerged from Kabuto's body but moreover had used his Living Corpse Resurrection jutsu to swallow the hapless teen's body, Konohagakure had been sending countless ninja on missions to track Orochimaru's whereabouts . Inevitably, these turned out to be no more than suicide missions for whatever ill fated shinobi who happened to be given the assignment.

Shaking her head, Lucy proceeded to tear apart the bodies, not even bothering to glance at the faces of her other two victims. They were but animals to her, their murder as insignificant as though she'd simply swatted a fly. Emotionlessly, she continued to plunge her vectors into the corpses, oblivious to the blood that splattered against her, filling her nostrils with the redolent stench.

Whereas a lesser person would have been repulsed, Lucy was enthralled, and now she ripped into them with abandon, former apathy forgotten, her wild laughter cutting through the air just as her vectors cut through their flesh.

Caught in the grip of the voice of her instinct, Lucy continued to mutilate the bodies beyond identification, disfiguring them to the point that they could never be recognized as human, which she had never viewed them as even before she'd reduced them to bloodied masses of torn flesh and scattered organs.

The wet snapping of bone, the ripping of sliced skin...It was music to her ears, a tune far sweeter than the one that she'd been mulling over earlier. Though this song brought no promise of pure lilies and blessings, it still resounded throughout her being, albeit in an entirely converse fashion.

But none of that mattered to Lucy as steaming viscera slipped through the fingers of her vectors, as organs ruptured, as flesh was pulled from bone. Not even Orochimaru mattered. Right now, she was too preoccupied in singing the song of her people, the requiem of eradication, the elfenlied.

Ten minutes later, having finally satiated her desire to reduce her adversaries into little more than gristle and bone fragments, Lucy at last managed to grab a hold of herself. "Well, that was... entertaining."

Bored, she sat down next to the remains of her artistry, occasionally sending out a vector to poke at the tangled mass of flesh, which quivered as though it might have back when it was still living. It wasn't difficult to imagine that those idiotic troglodytes had had to use the entirety of the pluck they could conjure up just to avoid soiling themselves once they felt the caress of her hands.

Fear was what caused one to tremble, was it not? Lucy wouldn't know. She'd never had the luxury of feeling afraid. It was a waste of time, an idiotic response that caused you to delay, to question your instincts and countless times she had used that momentary slip to slice the head off an enemy's shoulders. Fear, she had long since decided, was something that she could not afford to have.

Slowly, Lucy eased herself on to her feet, sparing a final glance at what used to be her would-be killers. She was done here. Her duty completed, she turned on her heel, kicking aside what appeared to be a heart in the process, and marched back into the lair, leaving a trail of blood dripping behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

Note: Sorry if this chapter is a little dull, but I've been distracted by a great deal of idiotic theatrics the past several days and have thus been distracted. Either way, here's the next chapter. I hope you don't completely despise it. If you do, oh well.

Immersing herself in the steaming water, Lucy languidly ran a bloodied hand down the white-tiled wall, leaving a crimson streak down its length, the dark, rusty hue in stark contrast against the snowy purity.

Sinking more deeply into the tub, the blood staining her began to weep off of her in rivulets, appearing as though her pores themselves were exuding the sanguine liquid. Idly, Lucy watched as the blood oozed into the water; in just minutes, the entirety of the water was stained red. It was as if she were bathing in the blood itself, submerging herself in the life force of the recently fallen.

Lids growing heavy as the heat of the water eased her into a lull, Lucy drifted off to sleep pondering how it would feel literally to bathe in the blood of one's enemies.

Sometime later, Lucy found herself once against in Orochimaru's lair, awaiting orders. He was, ever punctual, already there waiting for her arrival. Mirthless smile painted across his ashen face, razor-sharp cheekbones appearing ready at any moment to burst through the flesh of his cheeks, golden eyes slightly narrowed, he beckoned for her to come closer with one long, slender hand. Eyebrows slightly raised at the out of character gesture, she nonetheless stepped closer, even though she unconsciously touched a vector to the black mark that would forever mar the pulse of her neck.

"Ah, my dear Lucy. How lovely of you to come visit. Please, have a seat." Bemused, Lucy carefully lowered herself into the chair that had been conveniently placed across his own, never once removing her gaze from Orochimaru. Her master he might be, but she was certainly wary of him; serpents were well-known for springing when least expected, after all. Nevertheless, she kept her expression neutral, making sure that her eyes didn't give away any suspicions that she might be harboring.

Orochimaru's smile grew and with it Lucy's confusion. Just as she was about to voice her perplexity as to why she had been summoned, Orochimaru began to speak. "How are the children? Are they doing well?"

Somewhat taken aback but quickly recovering, Lucy allowed a smirk of her own to cross her face. "Ah." So _this _was what this little rendezvous is all about, she thought wryly. How pragmatic of him. "As well as can be expected, Orochimaru-sama. They all recognize me as they're mother and seem to have no objections to it. Moreover, all of them are responding well to the cursed seals; as of yet, there have been no markedly poor reactions or mortalities. I can't speak for the future, but I'm willing to predict that there will be a high, if not one hundred percent survival rate." Her report completed, Lucy crossed her legs, awaiting his verdict.

At this point, his grin seemed as though it might stretch from ear to ear, like the infamous smile that so adorned the faces of a number of unfortunate Glasgow residents. His response was summed up in but one word. "Excellent." Relieved at having been spared a monologue, Lucy descended from her perch, intent on leaving so that she might fulfill another, more pressing social obligation.

Now it was Orochimaru's turn to cock a brow. "And what, may I ask, is the rush?" If Lucy wasn't mistaken, his voice held a slight inflection of discontent, as if he hoped for her to stay longer so that they might continue conversing. Any other day, she would appease him, but at the moment, she simply could not. However, she respectfully turned around to face him before saying "The children are calling me right now." Satisfied, Orochimaru leaned back in his seat, his expression melting into what on any other person could be described as a peaceful repose, although on him it was best expressed as the look that a boa constrictor might assume after swallowing a live goat. "But of course. A mother shouldn't leave her children alone for long."

Finally, Lucy was able to make her way towards her children. They were all trying to talk to her at once, their voices blending together so that she could barely distinguish one from the other. It was a wild din in her head, a violent clamor that made it feel as though her head might burst, so she abandoned her legs, instead using her vectors to take flight through the halls before finally landing before the door that housed her offspring.

All of a sudden, the noise that had been previously roaring through her ceased entirely. They could sense her presence and were aware that she was now near. Slowly, Lucy pushed open the door.

Standing in front of her in a perfect row stood six Diclonius children, children that she herself had borne through the use of her vectors. Silpelits, all female, bearing the uniform appearance of the Diclonius, fair-complexioned with hair and eyes in varying shades of pink and scarlet. As if on cue, they disbanded from their tidy row, surrounding her, their ruby eyes full of wonder at Mother. Mother, the Queen, the strongest of them all, the original Diclonius, the one who brought them into this world with her vector virus, the one who would lead them in the obliteration of hornless so that they might carve out this world in the image of the elves.

Lucy smiled, a true smile that for once wasn't laced with sarcasm or bitterness. She stroked the downy heads of her children, her hands lingering at their horns. She would be sure to raise them to make those glossy projections of bone something to be proud of, to feed them the knowledge that their Diclonius birthright manifested in them as the power to reach further than any mere human, the power to crush both stone and enemies with ease. She relayed this to them telepathically and immediately they understood, their blood-hued eyes alight with a combination of eagerness and blood lust. Their instincts were strong, yes. But before they could be sent out onto the battlefield, they needed to be given a test.

In the corner of the room stood a large wooden box, kept shut by a series of padlocked chains. Every so often, it would shake violently, as though its contents were struggling desperately to escape. Indeed, hard, labored panting and subdued growls could be heard emanating from it, and this time the box quaked so violently that it nearly toppled over onto its side. The young Diclonii looked at it curiously, their thoughts all centered on what might be imprisoned within the container.

Lucy's smile stretched wider, revealing her rather prominent canines. "This, my children, is your test. Show Mother your arms."


End file.
